Insomnia
by Lokis army at 221B
Summary: John can't sleep. Maybe Sherlock can help. In more ways than one.
1. Night terrors

**WARNING: Drug references, depression, anxiety, sexy thoughts ;), implied attempted suicide.**

* * *

There you are. On the rooftop of Bart's, about to jump. I feel helpless because I just want to hold my hand out to you and help you away from the edge. But I can't. Tears start to burn in my eyes and you say your last words, "Goodbye, John." I call your name but it's no use. You're already falling and I have to sit and watch you plummet to your death.

And then, everything around me starts to crumble like an aging painting. The world fades to dust and I find myself gasping for air. I'm in the flat and you, you are here. Your hands on my shoulders as if you shook me awake. You're here. You aren't dead. It was all another nightmare.

"Are you alright?" you ask. But I don't answer. I just look at you, sit up, and wrap my arm around your waist to pull you close and hold you.

I can't stand these nightmares. They won't go away. Every night I watch you die over and over again like it's on replay constantly in my head.

You place your hand on top of my head, looking for an answer. "I'm fine." I say in a shaky breath.

You kneel beside my bed and look into my eyes. "This has been happening every night since I came back. Every night I wake you up because you are screaming for me in your sleep."

Idiot. This has been happening for three and a half years. Not just since you've been home. But back then nobody ever woke me up.

Every single night I've watched you die. I can feel myself going insane. You know I won't be okay if this continues. Of course. You're Sherlock Holmes. You know everything. Well, everything except one thing.

Because you see so much and yet you are so blind. You don't realize that I am completely in love with you. Because you were there when I was alone, you filled the gap in my life, and you took my limp away.

And even though I hate you for making me go through what I did for three whole years thinking you dead, I could never kick you out. You mean too much to me.

I need you like I need oxygen. You are a drug so addicting that I would die just to be able to touch you. You are the living embodiment of cocaine and I have all the symptoms.

You tire me out sometimes, you made me go from happy to angry in less than one second, you give me a rush that I crave, and no matter what I do, I can't quit. I'm addicted.

"When was the last time you slept for a full night?" you ask with worry in your voice. I look down at the floor, following each crevice between the wood planks with my eyes. It's been three and a half years since I slept through the night without a nightmare. Which would obviously explain the weight loss and weakened immune system.

"A while." is all I say. When I look up at you, I can tell you know exactly when I last slept through the night. You stand up. "Insomnia." you say with a plain voice.

Wow. Even I knew I had insomnia. What an amazing deduction. Bravo, captain obvious. God! Sometimes you are a bloody annoying git!

"If you don't mind I'd like to run a few experiments on you starting tomorrow morning."

"What kind of experiments?" Please don't say blood sample, please don't say blood sample. "I'll need a blood sample." DAMN! "And I'll need to ask you questions every night before you go to bed if that's alright."

"Anything you want." I answer.

You leave the room but leave the door open. I can hear you go downstairs and rummage through some cupboards. I hear you filling a glass with water. When you come back you have a glass of water and a small blue pill.

"Take this." You hand me the water and the pill. "What is it?" I ask

"Just some Halcion. Surely you've heard of it. It helps you sleep and decreases the amount of times you wake up during the night. Although you may feel a bit drowsy in the morning but that's just a side effect."

"Why do you have this?"

"I had insomnia while I was gone those three years. It helps." you smile down at me.

I pop the pill in my mouth and swallow it down with water. God I hope this helps.

I hand you back the glass and smile "Thank you."

"Goodnight" You say walking out and shutting the door behind you.

I sleep. But I'm restless. Even a bloody sleeping pill doesn't even help me sleep that well.

* * *

When I wake up it's around 11:00 in the morning. That's a lot later than I usually wake up. But it's fine today. I have nothing important to do. I'm surprised you didn't wake me up right away.

When I go downstairs you're sitting at the laptop, just staring at the screen. Probably reading an email or something. "Good morning" I say

You look up and smirk. "I trust you slept well?"

I sigh and go to the kettle to pour some tea for myself. "You need a blood sample right?"

"I took that from you when you were asleep." Doesn't surprise me. I rather I didn't have to be awake for that anyway. I may be a doctor but I hate needles with a firy passion.

"But since I didn't ask questions last night i'm going to ask them now. Come sit." I do. I sit right next to you. Of course I have my tea. I can't tolerate people if I can't have my tea. Not even you.

"Alright first question, Are you stressed?"

"no."

"Second question, If you have nightmares how many do you have per night?"

"At least three or four a night."

"And how long has this been going on for?"

"Three and a half years obviously. Sherlock, you know all this stuff."

"Do I though? You say you aren't stressed out but clearly you are. Don't lie to me, John you must be forgetting who I am and what I can do. But this isn't going to work if you aren't honest with me so, why are you stressed out?"

I stand up. I've already had enough. "Nothing. Just forget it"

"No tell me now." You stand up as well.

"It's nothing."

"Stop trying to lie to me god damn it!"

"Fine! Okay! I'm stressed because I don't want you to leave again! I don't want you to actually die and make me think that maybe you faked it but in the end i'm just left waiting for you to return but you never do! I don't want to have to lose you!"

You don't say anything. You stare at me for a minute and then back at the laptop screen. "I think we're done for right now" you say snapping the laptop shut. You take your laptop to your room and lock the door behind you. You're upset. About what though? Did I say something to offend you? Please don't be like this. Come out. Please. I'm sorry.


	2. Horizontal lines

**Authors note: I had the last chapter in John's pov and in this chapter I'm putting it in Sherlock's pov. Enjoy~**

**WARNING: DEPRESSION AND SELF HARM**

* * *

You are such a pain, you've become terribly hard to read, and now I find out you're stressed about me leaving again? When did you become so complicated? Three years ago you were the most easy person to get through to. Now it's different.

I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at myself because clearly while I was gone your emotional state has worsened. I don't regret leaving you though. Because if I hadn't you would have been killed.

But now you have insomnia and I find myself in the rare state of worry. You've lost weight, you seem to get sick so easy, your eyes are sunk in, and you don't look like my John anymore.

You look like a clone that went a bit wrong.

But I don't want this clone. I want the happy John who sat in his chair and drank tea and read the newspaper while I was having a complete metal breakdown because I didn't have cigarettes. You're going through a deep depression. It's obvious to me and everyone around you. It was fairly obvious when I took your blood this morning as well.

There were fourteen fading horizontal lines up your forearm. I wept by your bed side when I saw that. I couldn't look at your other arm. I wouldn't let myself do it. I was afraid that there would be even more of the scars on your other arm.

Why did you do this to yourself? Over me of all people, you harmed yourself. Why?

I can hear you tapping on my door with your pointer finger. You're contemplating whether you should knock or just walk away.

"It's been three hours. I'm sorry if I said something to hurt you but will you come out of your damn room?"

"Why did you do it, John?"

"Do what?" you don't know what I'm talking about.

I swing the door open. I feel more angry than I intended. "I figured out this morning why you've been wearing all the long sleeves since I've been home." I grab your left arm and pull up the sleeve hard. I look at you with anger burning in my eyes.

"Why?" I ask

You hesitate. You won't look at me either. You just look at the scars on your arm. You won't answer me.

"Answer me god dammit! Why did you do this?!"

You look up at me with watery eyes. Oh John. I'm sorry.

"I felt like I had failed at protecting you. I felt like I needed to suffer. I-" You stop and bring your right hand up over your eyes. You're crying. Oh god I hate it when you do that. Because I don't like seeing you so vulnerable.

I pull your arm and bring you into my own arms. I hold onto you for dear life because I can see you fading. In my eyes everyone has a colour. A bright one if they're happy and so very alive and a dark, fading one if they're close to giving up. And your colour is nearly gone and it's scaring me.

My feelings toward you, in all honesty, are not platonic. I do have feelings for you. I don't really like to dabble with sentiment but I can't help that you've made me more human than any other person have ever done with me. People assume that I don't know what love feels like, but I do.

Maybe one day i'll tell you that story. I once loved someone. Actually it was about a year before I met you. But I suppose all that can wait until later.

You are sobbing into my shoulder. A combination of being over tired and just sadness. You're letting out heaving breathes. "Shhhh. It's alright. It's fine. It's...it's all fine" I whisper into your hair.

We stand in my bedroom doorway, just holding each other, for two hours.

* * *

The next four days are different. You seem to be a bit happier. Although no matter what I do, you still wake up screaming for me. But today, you seem particularly jittery.

"What are you doing tonight?" you ask with a smile

"I don't think I have anything planned. Why?"

"We're having a movie night." Oh god.

"What?"

"We're having a movie night, Sherlock. I have three movies I want to watch tonight and they're all several hours long. I don't want to be alone while watching them. So you, my friend, are watching them with me."

I laugh because you seem rather excited. "Alright. It depends on the movies. What are they?"

"Lord of the rings!" Oh god! Mycroft rather enjoys those

"I decline."

"No no no you said you weren't busy. You are watching these if it kills you. Think of it as a sort of date thing."

"A date?"

"Yes. I believe I've explained this before. It's when two people who like each other go out and have fun. But you don't necessarily have to go out."

"Alright. Fine." I'll do it because it makes you happy. And I rarely see you like that now.

* * *

It's late at night when we sit on the couch to watch the movies.

The music in them is rather nice and the cinematography is beautiful. The story line isn't half bad either. I can see why Mycroft enjoys them. By the time the second movie is over, you're already half asleep.

Into the third movie you fall into slumber. I switch the telly off but before I can get up to go to my room you put you're head on my chest. Unknowingly, obviously. I try to move you without waking you but it's no use. I can't move without waking you and I don't want to do that. Not at all.

I look at your slack face. It's funny, you look rather comfortable right at this moment.

I bury my nose in your hair. You smell of shampoo and cologne. You smell like the old you.

I wrap my arms around you and drift off myself.

Tonight, you don't scream for me at all. You sleep through the entire night without any problem at all.

* * *

The next morning I wake up and you're in the kitchen, making tea. "Good morning" I say standing up.

"Good morning" You reply not looking up from the kettle.

"You slept well last night."

"Yes, actually. It's refreshing. Thanks for that."

"Thanks for what?"

"You must have crunched a sleeping pill in my drink last night right? That's why I slept so well."

What are you talking about? You're an idiot.

"I didn't do anything last night."

"mhm sure."

"John, honestly why would I do that?"

"I don't know but I know you did. You had to have."

"Well I didn't. You must have been comfortable that's all"

You hand me a cup of tea and sit in your chair.

"I suppose. You swear you didn't put anything in my drink or food?"

"I promise."


End file.
